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Topic: Share Your Christmas Stories (Read 20573 times)

I don't remember this, but it's become the stuff of family legend. I have a basic timeframe, that I was younger than 7 based on the house it occurred in.

It was family tradition for everyone to come over to one house on Christmas Eve, spend the night, the adults would go to Midnight Mass and then everyone would wake up together and open all our gifts, have breakfast, play with the new toys and eat all day. Late Christmas night everyone would finally head home. I remember it being fun as a kid, but as an adult I shudder at the logistics, and there's no way I would be able to handle 36 hours of family fun.

One year Mom's Cousin was there. All the kids were asleep and the adults went to Midnight Mass, except Cousin. He stayed at our house and started drinking. By the time the adults got home from Mass, he was 3 sheets to the wind. And at some point he saw all the pretty packages and bows and just couldn't help himself. He unwrapped the presents (all the kids' presents) and when he saw a hotwheels track, he just had to have it. Mom, her 5 siblings, and the husbands walked in to see her grown, drunk cousin happily sitting in front of the tree with wrapping paper strewn about, playing with the hotwheels track.

A whisper screaming tirade followed as he was chewed out by 5 formidable women. Dad and his brothers-in-law put Cousin to bed while Mom and her sisters re-wrapped all the presents. There was apparently some birthday paper turned inside out, as they exhausted Mom's supply of excess paper. And some of the adult presents were carefully unwrapped to get enough paper to re-wrap kid gifts.

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In the United States today, there is a pervasive tendency to treat children as adults, and adults as children. The options of children are thus steadily expanded, while those of adults are progressively constricted. The result is unruly children and childish adults. ~Thomas Szasz

When my baby brother was 2 or 3, he got a couple packs of batteries in his stocking. My mom always stuffed our stockings full of useful and fun things, but batteries were definitely befuddling to the little guy. He got this amazing expression of shock and sadness, stared at the batteries, and bellow-squeaked, in the way only a sweet, confused toddler can, "Baaaatteries? Why did I get baaatteries?"

My mom was very coy, telling him that he'd just have to find out, but maybe one of his gifts would use batteries. He wasn't sure that made sense, but eventually he opened something awesome and electronic, batteries not included. *Lightbulb!*

Ever since, if a gift needs batteries, you can be sure you'll get some in your stocking. Bonus points for an equally befuddled query.

If my oldest got batteries in his stocking, he'd cheer like crazy and tell his brother that now when the wii remotes run out, they don't have to ask mom for new ones!

When my 5 years older than me brother was little, he told my parents he was going to go out on the front lawn and look for reindeer tracks Christmas morning. So at midnight, Christmas Eve, my Dad is out on the front lawn with 2X4's strapped to his feet, using a deer hoof pointer to make tracks. And then my brother forgot the next morning. You can bet that Dad dragged him outside to look. The neighbours must have thought he was nuts!

Years later, my brother pulled me out of the house to look on the flat porch roof. There were sleigh marks near the edge of the roof, with footprints over to the chimney. And since it had snowed some, they were all partially filled in. That was pretty cool.

My brother and I would leave our letters to Santa on the fireplace hearth. DB was in on the gig but I was still waffling. But my parents must have decided it was time. My DB's letter had a 'By the way, Santa, could you please fix my snowmobile?' at the bottom. The next morning, in my Dad's handwriting, was the response, 'Fix your own dingdangity snowmobile. What do you think I am, a mechanic?'

And finally, when my nephews were little, they'd made 'reindeer food' at daycare. It was mostly oatmeal but had some sparkles in it. When my Dad asked what the sparkles were for, my youngest nephew replied, 'So the reindeer can see it, of course!' YN and my SIL went out and sprinkled it on the front lawn. The next morning, there were deer tracks everywhere. The local deer had come in for a little snack.

I had to have been twelve or thirteen. My maternal great-aunt gave me a huge box. I opened it to find another box. Repeat steps until I find four small boxes. I chose one, opened it and found....a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret. Apparently my face turned really red.

When I was four years old, I used to love to play in the frame of my old crib. It was just a square, wooden structure with rails all the way around and it was painted red. No clue why I found it so entertaining, but stuff like that is cool when you're four. My parents jokingly called it my "cage." It had seen better days at that point and was starting to fall apart.

Around Christmas of that year, my parents dutifully packed up my older sister and me and took us to see the mall Santa. When my turn finally came, I was deposited on Santa's lap and of course, he asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I announced quite loudly, "My mommy and daddy say I need a new cage!"

These days I'm sure someone would notify the authorities but as this occurred in 1968, my parents emerged unscathed, if terribly embarrassed.

I ruined Christmas in 2009. On December 23, I woke up early in the morning with a terrible, burning pain in my upper left arm. It was closely followed by nausea, then lower back and abdominal pain. It was a confusing array of symptoms, but I figured I'd caught some virus and aggravated my chronic back problems while throwing up. My husband went off to work, saying he would call later to check up on me. I went back to bed (fortunately I had the day off anyway.)

The nausea would not let up and as time wore on, the back and abdomen pain got worse and worse - as in some of the worst pain I've experienced. I couldn't reach my husband as he was in court, and the nearest hospital is an hour's drive away; however, I figured I could make it to the little medical clinic in my town so off I went.

The folks at the clinic saw a middle-aged woman with pain in the left arm radiating down into her back, nausea, and faintness, and in spite of a normal EKG and over my protests that it wasn't my heart, I went by ambulance to the nearest hospital.

Long story short, the doctor there pretty obviously thought I'd herniated my disk again and was either being a giant wuss or was seeking drugs. He discounted all the other symptoms, which now included low-grade fever and elevated blood pressure. I got morphine and stayed overnight.

The afternoon after I was released, my husband found the cause of my woes: the squashed corpse of the Black Widow who'd crawled into bed with me and bitten me twice. It took a full week for the bite marks to show up, for some reason.

I spent Christmas Day in a drugged haze at home rather than going to Phoenix as usual. My husband had let my mother know what was going on but my younger sister fell through the cracks: he thought my mother was going to call her and my mother thought he was. That resulted in my sister calling me on Christmas Eve to find out where I was and having to endure a very confusing conversation, as I was drugged to the gills and had no idea who she was or what was going on.

I have one from this year already, and it's going to go down as the Great Tea Debacle.

So my sis doesn't have a lot of money to spend on Christmas. I know this, so all I asked from her was makeup, and we'd go shopping some time while she's on break from work (she works in a school) so I get all the right colors. She's been my makeup go-to girl for years now, so this isn't unusual. That's all I wanted from her. Anything else was gravy.

She called me in tears Sunday night saying that she'd ruined Christmas and she was so sorry, could I ever forgive her? As it turns out, she had gone to the mall with her boyfriend. She knew I liked tea, and they have a Teavana (loose leaf tea store) so she went in and tasted some of their samples. There was one she thought I'd really like, so she decided to buy some.

My sister, keep in mind, doesn't know much about loose leaf tea. She decided to buy a half a pound, thinking it might last me a few months. And she wasn't paying too much attention, so when the clerk was very excited and said the price, she thought that the woman said $26. She thought it was a bit expensive, but hey, it's Christmas and a very thoughtful gift, right?

Two stores down, her boyfriend asked why she was freaking out about an extra $5 at breakfast that morning, but dropped nearly $50 on tea for me. It was actually $46, and it was too late to take back. She managed to keep herself calm all day around his family, but by the time she called me she was convinced that I'd hate her because she wouldn't be able to buy me any makeup and she hoped that I liked tea.

Folks, a half pound of tea will last me more than a year. Easily. I had to reassure her that she did not ruin Christmas, that I could afford my own makeup as long as she'd still go shopping with me to pick it out, and that the tea would be around for a long while yet. I explained that it only took a very small amount to make a cup of tea, or a pitcher, and she started crying again because she was so embarassed that she didn't realize that.

Long story short, she's going to keep some of the tea for cold and flu season so she'll be able to breathe, and I'll have at least a quarter pound of tea, if not more, to share with anyone who comes over.

I have one from this year already, and it's going to go down as the Great Tea Debacle.

So my sis doesn't have a lot of money to spend on Christmas. I know this, so all I asked from her was makeup, and we'd go shopping some time while she's on break from work (she works in a school) so I get all the right colors. She's been my makeup go-to girl for years now, so this isn't unusual. That's all I wanted from her. Anything else was gravy.

She called me in tears Sunday night saying that she'd ruined Christmas and she was so sorry, could I ever forgive her? As it turns out, she had gone to the mall with her boyfriend. She knew I liked tea, and they have a Teavana (loose leaf tea store) so she went in and tasted some of their samples. There was one she thought I'd really like, so she decided to buy some.

My sister, keep in mind, doesn't know much about loose leaf tea. She decided to buy a half a pound, thinking it might last me a few months. And she wasn't paying too much attention, so when the clerk was very excited and said the price, she thought that the woman said $26. She thought it was a bit expensive, but hey, it's Christmas and a very thoughtful gift, right?

Two stores down, her boyfriend asked why she was freaking out about an extra $5 at breakfast that morning, but dropped nearly $50 on tea for me. It was actually $46, and it was too late to take back. She managed to keep herself calm all day around his family, but by the time she called me she was convinced that I'd hate her because she wouldn't be able to buy me any makeup and she hoped that I liked tea.

Folks, a half pound of tea will last me more than a year. Easily. I had to reassure her that she did not ruin Christmas, that I could afford my own makeup as long as she'd still go shopping with me to pick it out, and that the tea would be around for a long while yet. I explained that it only took a very small amount to make a cup of tea, or a pitcher, and she started crying again because she was so embarassed that she didn't realize that.

Long story short, she's going to keep some of the tea for cold and flu season so she'll be able to breathe, and I'll have at least a quarter pound of tea, if not more, to share with anyone who comes over.

The poor thing! I am glad that it worked out for you guys. (if there is plenty, maybe you and your sister could use a small portion of it to make tea soap/tea lotion bars. You can find recipes on the internet/pinterest that wouldn't cost a lot of money, it would be another bonding experience, and possibly ideas for future holiday gifts for others.)

I found out the truth about Santa Claus when I was 4 years old. My folks told me on Christmas Eve that Santa would put up and decorate the tree for us, so when I heard a glass ornament fall to the hardwood floor and break, naturally I got up to see The Man Himself. Bus-TED! Yeah, I was kinda ticked off! LOL

A few years later on a night just before Christmas, we were on the way home when I saw a red light on top of a distant radio tower. I managed to convince my younger sister that it was Rudolph's nose, while the adults in the front seat struggled to stifle their giggles. I had her sold on it until we passed a break in the tree line and the light below it became visible, too. The kid was gullible, but she wasn't stupid.

My story is kind of sad, but wht happened after was very comforting. My dad was diagnosed with cancer at the end of Sept., and went through radiation, chemo, etc. and just before Christmas, went back in the hospital, where sadly, he passed away on Christmas morning. So my mom and I are just kind of numb; and having gotten back from the hospital, we are just kind of wandering about like we had no clue what to do. My mom didn't want to call anyone, family or friends, until the next day so as not to "ruin" anyone else's holiday.

A bit later, the doorbell rings, and its her awesome next door neighbor is there, holding a container of soup, and a plate of homemade biscuits. In the middle of prepping for her OWN family's big holiday dinner, she MADE us soup. I know she made it then since it was still hot, and not just something she pulled out of the fridge and freezer. She's a great cook, and that soup was just waht we needed. we had been supposed to go to friend's for dinner, but didn't, so we had nothing in the house. This was perfect.

And I still insist that my mom get me a bag of pistachios for my stocking since my dad always did, adn I don't want to break that tradition.

The Year of Cabbage Patch Kids. The Christmas they came out was crazy and it was incredibly hard to find one. One of the local dept stores had this amazing nursery display set up and I fell in absolute love with one doll in particular. As I still young and Santa was a big deal I of course asked for a CPK and to my parents relief I told Santa I did not care what it looked like I would be glad to have any one. My dad travelled a lot so he would try to get one in any city he was in to no avail. My mom was home with two kids so shopping time was limited and she could not get one either. Days before Christmas, my cousin who was managing a store in another city called them to ask if they needed a CPK and he would bring it to them on Christmas Eve as he was going to be in town. Arrangements made with much gratitude and the doll was dropped off at 10pm already wrapped. I opened it up and saw.....the very doll I had fallen in love with.

The Year of Cabbage Patch Kids. The Christmas they came out was crazy and it was incredibly hard to find one. One of the local dept stores had this amazing nursery display set up and I fell in absolute love with one doll in particular. As I still young and Santa was a big deal I of course asked for a CPK and to my parents relief I told Santa I did not care what it looked like I would be glad to have any one. My dad travelled a lot so he would try to get one in any city he was in to no avail. My mom was home with two kids so shopping time was limited and she could not get one either. Days before Christmas, my cousin who was managing a store in another city called them to ask if they needed a CPK and he would bring it to them on Christmas Eve as he was going to be in town. Arrangements made with much gratitude and the doll was dropped off at 10pm already wrapped. I opened it up and saw.....the very doll I had fallen in love with.

Awww...Santa was listening!

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What have you got? Is it food? Is it for me? I want it whatever it is!

This isn't a downer story, I hope. My favorite Christmas was 1996; it was the last one Papa was alive.

We went to Midnight mass. We all woke up around 7 am. We unwrapped presents and drank coffee together. Papa got everyone silly slippers. Mine were fuzzy green Grinch slippers, comets with Grinch heads bobbling at the toes. We made a huge breakfast and drove to Tucson to spend the afternoon with my paternal grandparents. My Nina made a leg of lamb. More presents, all the cousins made it to lunch. Papa decided he wanted to continue to Phoenix to see mom's family too. It was the first time in 12 years we all went together. We picked at dinner (still full from earlier) and had a sleepover with all of my paternal cousins. We stayed up all night watching movies and telling old stories.

To me, it was perfect. It was ordinary and extraordinary and it can never happen again. So to me, it is my most precious and cherished Christmas memory because it truly was my last childhood Christmas.

One year, everyone went on a low carb diet. So the holiday meal was a leg of lamb, a roast, a turkey and a ham. No rolls, potatoes, rice at all. Ok, fine, but no veggies or fruit either! All we had was meat, as far as the eye could see. And alcohol! A real cave person's delight, much to the chagrin of a cousin's vegan boyfriend!

Then there was the year my brother got me and my sister a hamster for Christmas. Cute but nothing like being women on Christmas morning to the words: your present is on the loose somewhere in the house. Find it before the cat does!

Hamsters also play a role in the second Christmas DH and I shared. I really wanted a dog but I lived with mama and she did not want pets. DH got her permission somehow to get me a hamster! It was a sweet gesture. So a week after I received Tequilla, I went to clean his cage. I found out that Tequilla was a she and the very proud mama of eight tiny babies! Good thing mama taught second grade; the babies were all given good homes. I called Tequilla the gift that kept on giving.

On 'good' surprises, I'll share one--although trigger/TMI warning, it is about infertility and doesn't really start as a Christmas story.

A few years ago, after a lot of weirdnesses in our lives, Mr. Dawbs and I had been trying for children for a few years. This had been challenging and stressful, in part, because when my hormones take their natural course, I have daily migraines with nausea. So I'd been in pain for the better part of 3 years and the treatments we'd discovered were incompatible with even *trying* to be pregnant according to the doctor (my rantings on my disagreement w/ the doctors on that can be another topic--it's moot because the doctors control the prescription pads)

Aenyhoo, in October, the doctor gave both Mr. Dawbs and I a whole battery of tests and the consensus was given to us around a not-very-pleasant-Thanksgiving that with our collective issues it was 'highly highly unlikely' that we would ever have a child without tremendous amounts of medical intervention. The fact that hormones in my system cause me no end of pain meant that it was going to be a bit extra challenging to have said interventions. I said that we needed to think on it, to sleep on it, and to all around have some time to grieve/process/figure out budgets/figure out some stuff before we took our next steps. I was entering my 'busy season' at work so said we would take our time and we'd decide how to proceed by spring.We had much debating with the docs over the status of the prescriptions for the intervening time and eventually I prevailed on the doctors to allow me to keep absurdly close track of my cycles--so I was taking pregnancy tests essentially every-other-day and, since they were inevitably negative, I was allowed to take my medications every day, after my negative test (For the record, that was incredibly disheartening and depressing. Nothing like "oh, yeah, another negative pregnancy test, now I can take my moderately in-effective medications in order to take my pain level from an 11 to a 4 today. yay?".(On the plus side, I learned you can buy cheap, no-name pregnancy test strips (without the plasticky things that surround them) in bulk, online, for something like .27c/test)

Christmas morning, I woke up and felt like hell. THat wasn't really surprising, I felt like hell a lot then--the previous few days had been pretty migraine-nausea bad. I decided washing my medications down with tasty Christmas wine was the way to go and, as always, I pulled out the morning's pregnancy test. Except, this time, it was positive.Best Christmas present *EVER*.(although I didn't ever get my wine. In fact, I didn't really get Christmas dinner--I had impressive morning sickness)(And, it's really really hard to trust a piece of paper you paid 27c. for. Of course, Christmas day, it wasn't like I could just hop on down to the corner store and buy a second test. So, I used about $1.08 worth of cheap tests and dealt with the crazy the next day to be able to confirm with something not made by the lowest bidder)

We were headed over to my IL's house, but made a quick detour to my parent's house, where we told my family (OK, we didn't tell gramps, because he couldn't keep a secret to save his life--and I didn't need *EVERYONE* knowing on that day), and at my IL's house, I handed my MIL a gift-bag with a tiny baby outfit (I'd been working on sewing something; I had take me 3 years to sew it--I am not speedy) and watching her process that was amazing.(and, FWIW, the child hated that carefully [if badly] sewn outfit, and wore it all of 2x.)

I don't remember this, as I was so young, but my mother used to tell the story.

First of all, my mother was an extraordinary cook. She could put on a holiday spread that would feed us and at least 5 more families down the road. Impressive and delicious. One year she put out the entire meal and we were all sick with the flu, so we just stared at it. She put it all away again and we went back to bed. We had a late Christmas that year, she said.